Small Miracles
by theatrchy2004
Summary: Takes place in my Young Justice AU. Tim is 19; Martha is 17. Dick and Barbara have welcome new additions to the family.
1. Chapter 1

Barbara was not happy. Now, she understood now what people meant when they said, "Be careful what you wish for." Barbara had been devastated after her incident with the Joker, not just because he'd taken her legs from her, but because he'd also virtually destroyed her chances of ever having children. Emphasis on the 'virtually', for here she was, Barbara Gordon-Grayson, seven months pregnant. With twins. And on top of that, Doctor Callaghan had prescribed strict bed-rest for her, after month three. And this indigestion was killing her.

"Damn you, Dick Grayson," Barbara muttered to herself as she tapped at the keyboard of her laptop. She heard a window open in the next room. Alarmed that someone might have gotten through her security system, but realizing it was probably someone from her clan, Barbara called out, "Who is it?" Batgirl appeared in the bedroom doorway a moment later.

"Batgirl, what are you doing in Blüdhaven?" Barbara asked.

Batgirl's response, mock-hurt facial expression included, could have only been learned from the Former Boy Wonder. "What, can't a protege visit her inspiration?"

Barbara narrowed her eyes. "_He_ is your inspiration. Now, what do you want?"

Noting that Barbara was in no mood for games, Batgirl went into "business" mode. "I need IDs on the people here. This disc is video surveillance from Gotham and this one contains photographs I took on duty tonight. I think they are linked to the mayor's kidnapping, but I can't be sure until I have IDs, and therefore, possible motives."

"And you can't use the computer 'downstairs,'" Barbara finished for her.

Batgirl's nostrils flared. "Correct."

Had she not been miserable, Barbara would have smirked at that. Instead, she took the discs with an "Alright, I'll take a look at them," and went to work. Batgirl sat down in the armchair near the bed, and removed her cowl to reveal the piercing blue eyes of Martha Wayne.

Suddenly, Barbara doubled over in pain and cried out. In an instant Martha was at her side.

"Barbara, are you okay?"

"Ugh, it's this damned indigestion. I'm gonna k-kill my husband," Barbara muttered.

Martha looked down, her eyes wide. "Uh, Barbara, I don't think it's indigestion."

***

In the Batcave, Batman was running data on the computer that pertained to the mayor's kidnapping. He could hear Nightwing and Robin horsing around on the mats behind him. They were biding their time until they went out on the case, again. Suddenly, the alarm sounded, alerting him to the urgent call coming in from Oracle's line.

He opened the channel. "Batman here. What's wrong, Oracle?"

Those words caught Nightwing's attention, and he strode to the computer, leaving Robin to swing at air.

The voice wasn't what either of them expected. Not on this channel. "Batman, this is Batgirl—"

"You are not to use this channel," Batman snarled, cutting her off.

Undaunted, Batgirl kept speaking. "Batman! Now is not the time! I can't reach Nightwing. Can you find hi-?"

Nightwing cut her off, already fearing the worst. "I'm here, Batgirl. What is it?"

Batgirl paused. "Babs's water broke. We're on our way to Rabe Memorial. Doc Leslie is making all the arrangements."

Nightwing was racing up the stairs to the manor before she finished.

"Nightwing, stop!" Batman yelled after him, running to catch and prevent Nightwing from going to the hospital instead of Dick Grayson. That left Robin alone in the cave. He went over to the computer.

"They're on it, Batgirl. Thanks. Send Babs my love. Robin out."

***

"Batgirl out," Martha clicked off the communicator. She glanced over at Barbara as they waited for the light to turn green. "Tim sends his love."

"He's a good boy," Barbara murmured through the agony. She hadn't felt pain this intense in her spine since she'd been shot. It was blinding. Martha continued driving, a little faster now that she was really beginning to worry about Barbara.

***

Alfred busied himself cleaning up yet another hairball. "Disgusting creature," he muttered under his breath. The cat at his feet merely rubbed against his leg and purred loudly. "Your feline wiles have no effect on me, young lady," he proclaimed, giving the cat a quick scratch between the ears.

Suddenly, the cats in the parlor dispersed. Over the racket of loud footsteps and screeching felines, Alfred heard Master Dick bellowing his name.

Alfred stepped out of the parlour, scolding, "Master Dick, one does not bellow like an elephant indoors. It is quite unbecoming—"

Nightwing stepped directly in front of him, and cut him off with, "Alfred! Babs! Babies! Now!" An instant later, "Keys!"

A half-second after that, a cowl-free Batman literally pulled him away from Alfred.

"NIGHTWING! _DICK_!"

That seemed to shake him out of it, at least somewhat. "Bruce, Babs is... the babies! Let me go! I have to—"

"You have to change your clothes," Bruce smirked.


	2. Chapter 2

Dick was in the backseat of the Rolls Royce. "Aw, come on, Alfred, lemme drive," he whined.

"Master Dick, your theatrics earlier have convinced me that you are in no condition to operate any sort of heavy machinery. As such, I shall drive us to Blüdhaven."

Dick sighed. Then, knowing he could not win this battle, he fell back into the seat.

***

Catwoman sucked in a breath of smoggy air. The East End. The manor might have been her home for almost twenty years, but her roots were here. This was the Catwoman's turf, and she protected it still.

Behind her, she heard a cape rustle. She quirked an eyebrow, flipped over him, and lashed out with her whip. As predicted, he used the whip to pull her into him and held her tightly. They still enjoyed their little games.

"I thought we agreed this was my turf," she growled.

"It is," he replied simply.

He wasn't playing anymore. There were rules to this game and he wasn't following them. "Well?" she practically hissed.

"The babies are coming," he said, releasing her. "I'll meet you there." And with that, he disappeared.

***

Martha was sipping her second Zesti Cola when Dick nearly bowled her over. As soon as he realized who she was, he turned and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Martha! Where is she?"

Martha pointed and he was off. She rolled her eyes and went back to her Zesti.

"One would think that all my years of teaching were in vain," Martha heard Alfred's voice behind her. She smiled.

She turned to regard the man she considered her grandfather. "Nah, you did fine with him, Alfred. Dick's just a spazz. Always has been."

Alfred suppressed his smile, declining to agree with the young mistress. He now turned his attention to her. "And you Miss Martha, how are you bearing up after this enormous ordeal?"

Martha shrugged. "Nothing major, you know. Comparatively speaking."

Alfred quirked an eyebrow. "Indeed." After a moment he offered her the duffle bag he was holding. "I took the liberty of packing an outfit for you, Miss Martha."

Martha smiled. Alfred was a saint. Barbara's clothes had fit her well enough not to fall off, but it was easier to keep up the Martha Wayne gig in chic, up-to-date designerwear. She didn't think Barbara had shopped for clothes since the eighties. "Thanks, Alfred." She kissed his cheek.

"Think nothing of it, miss," Alfred blushed. It always embarrassed him when the ladies of the house got... affectionate. Particularly in public.

Martha headed off in the direction of the ladies room, just as the entrance to the medical ward burst open and Dick Grayson emerged, screaming and yelling.

"You can't do this to me! Let me back in there!" he shouted.

"Dick! Dick listen to me," Doctor Leslie Thompkins tried to calm him down with the help of a very burly nurse named Chad. "Dick," she continued, "You've known from the start that these were the conditions under which your children would be born. Barbara has had a very high-risk pregnancy, and a caesarian section is a major operation. No one but the doctors and their assistants are allowed in the operating room. You know that."

Leslie's words slowly sank in. "Let go of me." He half-heartedly shrugged Chad off and sank into one of the waiting room chairs.

"I'm sorry, honey," Leslie leaned down and lifted his chin with her hand. "She's in good hands. Doctor Callaghan is the best around." Dick just nodded.

As Leslie and Chad returned to the medical area, Alfred sat down beside his younger charge. "It will be all right, Master Dick," he assured him. "She is in good hands, as Doctor Thompkins said."

Dick just nodded again.

"Would you like some coffee… or tea, Master Dick?"

"She was so pale, Alfred," Dick said. "She..." he swallowed. "They hadn't even put her under yet. Said she passed out from the pain."

Alfred nodded grimly, but understood that nothing would comfort the young man until things were well again.

***

Jim Gordon sat in his kitchen sipping a cup of coffee and basking in the moonlight. Sleep had been hard to come by lately. Even in retirement, Jim favored the post-sunset hours. He had more friends in the dark.

Lost in his thoughts, Jim almost missed the soft tap on the glass of the patio door. When he looked up he saw the familiar figure of Batman standing outside. Jim padded over to the door and opened it to his friend.

"Batman," Jim greeted.

"Jim."

"So, what brings you here?"

"Reliable sources inform me that your daughter has gone into labor."

"Wh-what? She's not scheduled for her C-section for another six weeks!"

"Apparently the babies in question have as much patience as their father. Doctor Thompkins and Doctor Callaghan have already arrived in Blüdhaven to perform the surgery."

Batman handed Jim a piece of paper with the hospital's address on it. Jim committed it to memory. When he looked up, Batman was gone.

***

Martha emerged from the ladies room in her own clothes. She put on her best Martha Wayne smile of contentment, but stopped short when she saw Dick sitting in the waiting room with Alfred. She automatically started thinking the worst. She shot a panicky look at Alfred.

"I'm afraid Master Dick had forgotten that he was not allowed in the operating room."

Feeling somewhat, but not entirely, relieved, Martha nodded her understanding. A second later, Selina sailed into the waiting room.

"Dick!" Selina hurried to her son's side. "Honey, how is she?"

"Selina, she... God, she was in so much pain and I wasn't there to help," Dick barely whispered.

"There wasn't anything you could have done, Master Dick. Nature is taking its course," Alfred assured him.

"All over my wife!" Dick yelled. He immediately regretted it, "Oh, God, Alfred, I'm sorry. I just..."

"Shh, come here, baby," Selina pulled Dick close to her. He cried silently into her neck as she raked her fingers through his thick, black mane of hair. "Shh. We're here for you. Always."


	3. Chapter 3

In the batcave, Robin monitored the city, and searched the databases for information on the mayor's alleged captors. Finally, he found a solid link. Edwin St. Clair was easily identified as one of the captors. He also happened to be one of Falcone's top men. Robin did the math quickly in his head, and arrived at the conclusion that Falcone's henchmen had the mayor at their number two hideout at Gotham Bay. Not wanting to disturb the family, but knowing the mayor's life was in danger, Robin hopped in the Redbird and sped out of the cave.

***

When Jim Gordon arrived in the waiting room he was greeted quickly by the Waynes' butler. "How is she, Alfred?" he asked.

"I'm afraid we do not know, Commissioner," Alfred answered him honestly. "None of us are allowed in the operating room, of course, not even Master Dick."

"As we expected," Jim sighed. He glanced over to the corner of the waiting room where Dick sat on the floor, leaning back against Selina's knees. Her fingers raked through his hair as she spoke softly to him. "How is he?"

"Not well, I'm afraid," Alfred stated grimly. "He's terribly worried, as are we all. The contractions were apparently quite painful for Miss Barbara. He insists on blaming himself for not being able to stop them."

Jim shook his head. "I don't know how you deal with these boys of yours, Alfred."

"It boggles the mind, sir."

Jim snorted a laugh. "Sure does." He regarded Dick. "He really loves her, doesn't he?"

"Indeed, sir."

***

Dick rested his head on Selina's knee. He was physically and emotionally exhausted. Selina was doing her best to comfort him, but Dick wasn't going to feel better until he knew that Babs and his children were safe and healthy. And while Selina was good at comforting, he didn't need comforting right now. He needed strength. He needed... "Selina, where's Bruce?"

"I'm right here, Dick," he heard Bruce say as he entered the waiting room and came right over.

Dick found the strength to stand, and hugged Bruce with all his might. He felt his father's strong arms wrap around him in a hug.

"Hey," Bruce spoke softly. "It'll be alright, chum. You'll see."

Dick wasn't so sure. "What if I lose her, Bruce? I don't know what I'd do."

Bruce pushed Dick back so he could look him in the eye. "Don't talk like that. If I know Barbara, and I think I do, she's going to pull through this just like she has everything else." Dick nodded.

Bruce hoped he was right.

***

Robin watched through the skylight as Falcone's thugs continued to intimidating the mayor. Robin knew they had dirt on him; Mayor Simmons had been active in Gotham's underworld prior to embarking upon his political career, and continued in his dealings with international slave trades. They had yet to pin that on him, as he was very slick and covered his tracks well. The evidence just wasn't there yet to hold up in a court of law. Simmons may not have been a saint, but right now, he was in danger, and bats did their best not to let anyone die on their watch.

From the opposite roof, Robin could make out some of the conversation through lipreading. St. Clair accused Simmons of coming short of his end of a bargain; Simmons feigned ignorance. Another thug kicked his chair. He was in no real danger yet, and Robin felt that this dose of intimidation was just what the doctor ordered.

It wasn't until St. Clair whipped out a gun that Robin swung into action. Crashing through the skylight, he managed both to disarm St. Clair, and to knock out a couple of thugs. Before St. Clair could summon more muscle, Robin sent out two R-knives. One destroyed the intercom system, the other sailed for the high-tech key panel by the door. It was at this moment that one goof got in a lucky punch.

_Ouch. That's gonna leave a mark_, Robin thought to himself. Before the guy could take another swing, Robin had immobilized him with a nerve pinch to the neck.

Somersaulting over the three men advancing, Robin landed before the chair, to which they had bound the mayor. The vigilante easily cut the ropes holding Simmons there, and shot a grapple up to the skylight. A few well-placed kicks and punches later, he and the mayor were flying free.

***

They waited for an eternity. Well, it seemed like an eternity anyway. Dick had found his second wind and was now pacing the waiting room impatiently. Jim fiddled with his old-fashioned cigarette lighter, while Alfred busied himself cross-stitching a bib for one of the babies. Martha lay sleeping across a row of chairs, her head on Selina's lap. Bruce stood in the corner, shifting his attention between his anxious son and his sleeping daughter. The only sounds that permeated the room were Dick's footsteps and the metal clanking of Jim's lighter.

All movement stopped when Leslie came back into the waiting room. Dick blanched, not knowing what to expect. Then Leslie smiled at him. "They're all fine, Dick." The relief in the room was practically palpable. Leslie continued, "Why don't you come back and meet your children?"

"Babs is okay?" Dick still couldn't quite believe it.

"She's still under anesthesia, but she pulled through just fine. We shouldn't try and wake her now, though; she wouldn't know what was going on, anyway."

Dick nodded and swallowed. "Can I see her? I need to see her."

Leslie smiled and nodded in understanding. "Of course, dear. Follow me." She led him through the doors.

***

Babs was sleeping peacefully. Dick smiled. He had the most beautiful woman in the world for a wife. One of the strongest too, as far as he was concerned. Stronger than he was, even. Most importantly, she was alive. He was leaning down to kiss her forehead, when Leslie's hand brushed his shoulder.

"Ready to meet the twins, Dick?"

Dick turned to her. "Absolutely. Lead on."

Leslie led him down a few hallways to the premie ward. After a thorough scrubbing of the hands and forearms, she brought him over to his children. They were each separate incubation tents, fast asleep.

"Dick, I'd like you to meet your son," she pointed to the baby on the left, "and your daughter," she indicated the baby on the right.

Dick was speechless. Before him were two of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen. To his left lay his daughter, with a full head of dark curls. To his right was his son, with a thin layer of red hair. As if on cue, the boy woke up. Shortly after, the girl opened her eyes.

Dick blinked back tears when his little girl started crying.

"Hey," Dick cooed, "don't you start too. I'm a big enough baby for the both of you."

He slid his hand inside the tent, stroking his daughter's jet-black curls. This seemed to calm her some. With her tiny hand, she gripped his finger tightly. Dick looked over to the other tent when he felt his son's grip too. He grinned his classic Grayson grin. "Oh, man, I can't wait to see your mom's face when she sees you."

***

Robin landed at the mayor's mansion. On the roof. He glowered at Simmons. "You're safe. For now. But I would suggest you stop your illegal activities, or you'll be getting a visit from my boss."

The mayor, who had seemed flustered throughout the ordeal, started shouting. "Your boss?! The bat?! Sure, tell him to come on by! You vigilante freaks have no place in Gotham. I keep trying to get it through to Akins, but he won't listen to me. So, why don't you just get out of my city?"

Before Robin could respond in any way, a shot rang out. It was quickly followed by another. It took him a minute to realize the mayor had just shot him. How had he gotten that gun anyway? Before Simmons could hit him again, Robin made his escape. In his weakened condition, he didn't land on the ground as gracefully as usual, even though he had his grapple line assisting him. He staggered under the bushes and fumbled for the pager in his utility belt.


	4. Chapter 4

Dick emerged from the maternity ward with a huge grin on his face. Everyone stood up when they saw him and swarmed around, peppering him with questions. Finally, he got them all to quiet down.

"They're fine, they're all fine. I just wanted Barbara to meet them first. They're perfect. Twenty little toes and twenty little fingers."

"So, when do we get to meet them?" Martha asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Really, Miss Martha, patience is a virtue," Alfred scolded.

"Yes... but really, Dick, when do I get to meet my grandchildren?" Selina could hardly contain herself.

Dick grinned. "Just follow me."

Dick led the clan to Barbara's private room (privacy arranged by Bruce, of course) where they found Barbara holding two tiny babies.

"Everyone," Dick took his daughter in arms, "Barbara and I would like you to meet our children, Mary Katherine Gordon-Grayson," he indicated the baby in his arms, "and James Bruce Gordon-Grayson."

"Oh, they're darling!" Selina burst out, rushing to Barbara's bedside. "Oh, may I?" When Barbara nodded, Selina took her grandson in her arms and lifted him up.

Jim Gordon made his way over to his daughter, and kissed her on the forehead. "How you holding up, sweetheart?"

"Tired," Barbara smiled.

Jim smiled back. "I'll bet."

Bruce leaned toward Dick, indicating the baby girl his son was holding. "May I?"

Dick gently handed the baby over. "Sure. Just be mindful of the head. And don't hold her too tight, or anything. She's so tiny."

Bruce quirked an eyebrow at his son. "I know, Dick. I have one of my own you know."

"Yeah but she's big!"

Selina, Jim, and Barbara laughed. Bruce raised his eyebrows. "Really? Since when?"

Martha rolled her eyes. "Da-aad."

***

Robin lay still in the bushes. He dared not move until his backup arrived. The mayor had gotten a couple of lucky shots in. If not for his armor, Robin knew, he'd probably be dead now. Still, his armor had only been able to slow the bullet, and now he was bleeding out. Fast. He could hear the mayor's guards searching the grounds for him. He knew it was only a matter of time before they found him.

"Whadda we have here?" a gruff voice called out.

_Damn, _Robin cursed silently, and looked up. One of the mayor's men had a rifle trained on him.

"Looks like I found a little birdie." The rifle clicked. Before the man could pull the trigger, though, a blur of black and denim breezed past. Robin smiled. The reserves had arrived.

Superboy made quick work of the brute, using the man's own rifle to pin him to a nearby tree. The man was alone, so Jon had time to get Robin out of there before the others came by.

His friend was not in good shape.

"Rob, hey Robbie!" he patted Robin's face a bit roughly to try and rouse him. When Robin started gibbering nonsense, Superboy knew he was in bad shape. As if the blood covering his uniform wasn't enough. "Hey, Robin! You got to wake up. Where do I take you?"

"Cave..." Robin muttered.

"Robbie, you got to stay awake. I don't know where the cave is!"

Robin placed an electronic device in Superboy's hand before he passed out.

"Great, this is just what I need." Superboy looked the device over. It was covered in blood, but... Aha! A GPS device. Count on the Boy Wonder to be lucid enough to be helpful even when he was passing out from blood loss. "Alright, Robbie, let's get you out of here."

Superboy lifted the smaller man up as carefully as possible, and took to the sky.

***

Bruce's cellphone rang in his pocket. He checked it and, seeing Tim's number on the display, excused himself from the room.

"Tim, hi! Where the heck are you?" he cheerfully answered the phone.

"Uh... is this B?"

Bruce frowned. That was not Tim's voice. It sounded like...

"Who is this?"

"Uh, this is Tim's friend, Jon. Look, Tim's been... in an accident. Can you come _home_ as soon as possible?"

"I'll be right there," Bruce barked and flipped the phone closed. Tim was hurt. Badly. Otherwise, the meta wouldn't have contacted him.

Bruce caught Leslie's arm as she stepped out of the hospital room.

"Leslie. I need you to come with me," the Voice ordered.

"Bruce, I have a lot of paperwork to process before I head back to Gotham. Besides, you should be enjoying your time with your family—"

"It's Tim. He's hurt."

The elderly doctor's demeanor changed quickly from jubilant to grim. "Let me grab my medical bag."

As Leslie hurried to grab whatever medical supplies she might need, Martha stepped out of the room.

"Dad, what is it?"

Bruce turned to his daughter. He didn't have to say anything; his expression spoke volumes, all by itself.

"I'm going with you," Martha insisted.

Bruce simply nodded in agreement. Now was not the time to argue.

***

As they were in civilian clothes, Bruce, Martha and Leslie pulled up to the manor, quickly and silently made their way to the study, and descended down the stairs to the cave. They were expecting the worst. What they found was Tim lying on the medical examination table, unconscious, with two large gauze pads taped to his chest and a splint on his left arm.

Leslie immediately dove into action. "What happened?" she questioned the young meta.

"I'm not really sure, but he's been shot. I was able to remove the bullets, stop the bleeding and dress the wounds, but he's lost a lot of blood. I found your reserve blood supply here, but it's not enough. There was only one bag matching Tim's blood type, and this is it," he indicated the nearly-empty blood bag hanging on the IV rack. "He's also broken his arm and cracked five ribs," Superboy answered as methodically and doctor-like as Leslie.

"We have to get him to the clinic. He needs blood," Leslie stated as she examined her patient.

"Here," Bruce rolled up his sleeve. "Tim and I are the same blood type."

"Bruce, he needs more blood than you can give," Leslie was exasperated.

"Then take what you can!" Bruce yelled.

Leslie glared at the man she thought of like a son. He was right. They didn't have time to get Tim to the clinic. She would have to do as Bruce ordered.

"Martha," Leslie gave instructions while she prepped Bruce for a direct transfusion, "I need you to go to the clinic. Bring me two bags of type B+ blood. Three, if they can spare it."

"Yes ma'am," Martha raced up the stairs.

"Wait!" Jon yelled, flying after her. "Let me take you, it will be quicker."

Martha nodded, and tried to ignore the fact that Superboy's shirt and jeans were covered with blood.


End file.
